


For The North

by MissEmmanuelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, F/M, First Time, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Post-Canon, Rough Sex, a little violent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEmmanuelle/pseuds/MissEmmanuelle
Summary: Post Great War, Jon is found out as a Targaryen by the North and forces him to choose. He chooses peace and marries Sansa, for the good of the North, somehow effortlessly seduces her to give herself to him and realises that it was what he needed all along.





	For The North

**Author's Note:**

> Anon ask for jonsa-creatives on Tumblr.
> 
> Anonymous asked:
> 
> hii!! i have a prompt. sansa decides to seduce jon a la margaery and tommen for the good of the north. she doesn't necessarily feel anything towards him at first, except for maybe guilty for "using" jon for the north. but the sex is hot and instead of only jon coming back for more like she expected, she is also affected and can't get enough of him. thaaanks
> 
> With a role reversal with Jon as the seductor (if that's an actual word)
> 
> *unbeta'd so pardon the mistakes!
> 
> For Jonsa canon smut lovers - take it all. It is yours!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Elle xxx (jonsaforlife/jonsa-creatives on Tumblr - come say hi!)

Whatever she asked, he’d give it. There was no choice in the matter. No longer for him, as he stared into the pale blue eyes staring back at his.

_If this is love, then so be it. Give me all of it._

His fingers committed to memory, of every inch of her creamy flesh and every quiver of her body whenever his mouth drew close to hers. He drank her in greedily like the exquisite wine that she was. Sweet, full bodied, strong and intoxicating. No gods can save him now. He was thoroughly and utterly fucked.

“You’re mine,” he whispered as he drove his aching hardness once more into her, thrusting repeatedly, both their bodies intertwined and hot with debauched desire. “As you are mine,” she repeated the same words back to him, her hands cupping his face ever so gently, whilst his grabbed and pulled and pinched.

 _How did I ever not seen before such loveliness before my very eyes_ , he wondered as he slammed and returned home, again and again.

* * *

_**SIX MONTHS EARLIER** _

“Welcome back home, your Grace,” Sansa said quietly. It was the only exchange between them since taking their vows earlier that day. The wedding feast was a grand affair by Northern standards but fell short of lavish mainly because Jon refused the gifts the other houses offered. Gifts were favours in another name. And it being winter meant that food was already scarce. The only gifts he accepted were anything they could keep for food to last them the whole winter.

The Great War had robbed the North of its resources, and with it, able bodied men and women, tradesmen, farmers and the list went on and on in his head. There were enough grains to last them probably halfway through the winter. Or at least he hoped. The last thing Jon wanted was another revolt led by an army of cold and starving men.

He had already avoided one such skirmish when he submitted to keeping the peace and agreed to marry his cousin, Sansa Stark - once whom he thought was his sister. Well, half sister. They were never really close for Jon to feel anything familial towards her. And perhaps that made it easier. Easier to accept the Northern terms, if he still wanted to prove his claim to always fight for the North and defend it. Now that all of Westeros knew who he really was.

“Aye. It feels right that I’ve returned home, here in Winterfell.”

“I am glad you are. Your Grace.”

“Sansa, please. Just call me Jon. Behind these doors, in this room, from now onwards - I’m just Jon. I’m still the same person despite what you may think. Besides we are married,” Jon requested. It was strange to have Sansa call him that. Though granted this was a peculiar situation. One he never dreamed of being in. Not of being King, not of being the heir to the Throne and never the thought of being married.  _Bastards don’t marry_ , he once thought. And how merely hours ago, there he stood, hand fasted and legally bound to Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell, before all of the North.  _Jon_. He would always be Jon for he was always a Stark. That would never change. He  _only_  wanted to be called Jon.  _Not Aegon_. 

And how he had always preferred the way Jon rolled off her tongue.  _Past those pink perfectly curved lips…_

Jon turned away. Thoughts of consummating the marriage finally dawned on him. Truth be told, he was just like any other man, with human needs and desires and Sansa, with her braided fiery red hair looking resplendent in her white wedding gown, painfully exposed it so. The forehead kiss he gave her many moons ago was still fresh in his mind. Little did he know, that moment was truly the beginning of his ruin.

“A drink..?” Jon stood up abruptly, not knowing anything better to ease the growing stirrings in his breeches. Sansa kept her head down.  _This is going to be harder than I thought,_  as Jon glanced her way, gulping down his wine as soon as he poured it into his cup.

“Jon.. I.. I have questions.” Sansa finally looked up at him. “Oh? What about, Sansa?”

Sansa stood up from where she was sitting and walked towards the hearth, her eyes gazing into the flickering flames. She didn’t quite know what to say. Why she agreed to all of this in the first place, was something she still couldn’t understand. She had questions she wished she could ask herself for answers.  _For the North, perhaps. All I’m doing is for the good of the North. Just like him. Family, duty, honour._

“Why did you agree to all this? To marry me?”

Jon stared down at his empty cup and filled it up again.  _Good question, Sansa. I’m sure there were other ways to prove I’m still a Stark than to marry one_. He decided not to reply with that. Honesty was a good place to start, especially in a marriage.It was a first for him.

“You’ve heard what they say about me? That I’m no longer Ned Stark’s bastard but worse. Far worse in their eyes. I am T*rgaryen scum now. No matter how hard I fought the dead, no matter how many wights I’ve killed, how many men I saved… It only takes a scroll to throw all that out to the pigs.”

“They do not think that, Jon. I’m sure-”

“ Yes they do, Sansa. Yes, they do. They’ve had enough of the South ordering them about. Ruling over them from the cesspool that is King’s Landing. They didn’t do anything when… when D*enaerys T*rgaryen fell and got torn to shreds by the white walkers. They just stood by and watched… That’s how much I’m sure, Sansa.”

Sansa kept her silence. She remembered watching from afar from the watch towers how the dragons fell one by one, how the shrill screeching of the wights filled the icy air that chilled her to the very bone. Jon and his men were all very fortunate to have come out alive and breathing, having survived the massacre. 

“I’m truly sorry for what happened. I really am, Jon… I didn’t know.”

“So to answer your question, Sansa. If you must know, I agreed to marry you because I was afraid. Afraid that I would lose everything. The North, you, Arya and Bran. Everything I came back for. I have never been afraid of the North before because I thought this was home, a place I trusted where I would be accepted even by my old name. A place that has always been a part of me and still is now but… I realise that I was wrong.”

 _And I’ve always wanted to be a Stark but this wasn’t the way I imagined it,_ he continued quietly in his heart.

Sansa turned to face him. True enough, Jon was still Jon. Battle weary, with some of his scars still visible while most of them were deeply hidden within, she would’ve imagined that Jon was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of losing. She slowly began to understand what he meant the first night she found him at Castle Black. Perhaps, this time peace was the only option. Only thing was, she was just as afraid. Of what was to become of them. Having survived King’s Landing and barely making it out alive from Ramsay’s clutches had scarred her for life. Sansa was afraid of everything that could go wrong. Sansa shut her eyes and inhaled deeply.  _A new beginning, for the North_ , she repeated to herself once more.

“Is there… Anymore wine?” Sansa stepped closer to where Jon stood and let out a little smile when his countenance brightened at her request.

“Always.”

A chuckle escaped her lips as Jon and her recounted past memories they spent as children running around Winterfell. How during one time, Jon pretended to be a ghost got his face thickly plastered with flour to scare the young ones. Those were such lovely times.

“I wish I didn’t remember so much. There are some things I wished I forgot.”

“I know, Sansa. But here we are. We are home. And there is peace, at least for now.”

“Yes. My.. what a journey it has been for both of us,” Sansa chuckled softly, her eyes drawn to her fingers drumming nervously on the bed they both sat on.

“Aye. Well… I suppose we should rest soon. It’s getting rather late and-”

“J-Jon, I have to tell you something.”

Jon sighed. He knew there was no avoiding it. It was both their duties and they both understood that duty must be done. Though his flesh welcomed it, the honour in him compelled against it.  _We could always pretend_. But that was not the Northern way.

“Sansa. I know what you’re going to say. It… Must be strange for you, even for me if I’m to be honest about it. But bear in mind that I would never do anything unless you asked me to, Sansa. I would never hurt you. What Ramsay did to you… I would never-”

“He never did anything to me.”

Jon stared at her. “What do you mean, Sansa? But… I saw your scars and what he did to you.”

Sansa sighed. This wasn’t a conversation she was keen on revisiting. “Jon, he hurt me yes. And he enjoyed it. But he never touched me. Not… there. Or at least he didn’t get to. I escaped Winterfell before he could.”

Jon wasn’t quite sure what to do with the newly given information. Rage reared its head again but at the same time relieved. The relief then quickly disappeared, washed over by shame and guilt. But whatever emotions that got hold of him, his cock stirred no matter what. Sansa Stark, twice married and still a maiden. Was she meant for him? The Northern princess, now his cousin, still someone he barely knew, was now his, untouched with the scent of innocence still fresh on her. It was confusing and bewildering, Jon never knew he could feel such things over a woman. But Sansa wasn’t just any woman, was she?

“He didn’t?”

“No,” Sansa shook her head. “If you must know… And perhaps it is all right to say this, since we are married. That night of the wedding, I.. I had my moon blood. The sight of it.. It repelled him. He beat me and punished me for it but no, he didn’t do anything else after that. Well, at least he didn’t have time to.”

Jon shut his eyes for a moment to rid of the images that assaulted his mind’s eye. His fists clenched tightly, yearning to pummel something, anything senseless but he only managed a deep guttural growl.

“That monster deserved the death you gave him. I cannot forgive myself for what happened to you. But I am glad he did not defile you.”

“I.. I suppose I have Theon to thank for that. If it wasn’t for him and Brienne, I would not have come to you to Castle Black and…”

Sansa couldn’t continue as the words formed into a lump in her throat. Sobs and tears flowed freely and it was as if a wall had been broken through, releasing every hurt, every anger, every fear and pain out from her. Strong arms snaked past her shoulders and pulled her close towards Jon’s chest. His scent of leather, wine and musk washed over her and Sansa breathed in deeply in between her sobs. Listening to the firm rhythm of his heartbeat proved comforting and  quietened her down, much to her relief.

“Shh.. Hush now. I’m here. We’re safe now. I’ll protect you, I promise. Do not be afraid,” the hushed raspy tones whispered calmly to her. Indeed, they are safe now. From everything except the unknown. The future. What was going to happen now, rests solely on both of them.

“Sansa.” Jon lifted her chin for his eyes to meet hers. “You have my word, as your husband. That you will always have me by your side, to keep you safe from harm, to do anything you wish me to and all that you ask is my command.”

Sansa smiled meekly at him. She never noticed how sad his grey eyes looked. How there was so much pain behind them. It only mirrored hers. If only she could help ease some of it. “Oh, Jon..”

It seemed almost time stopped when their eyes held each other in a deep gaze. One where their souls met for the first time. As his lips crashed onto hers, it was as if a bolt of lightning struck the room. It ignited a hunger in Jon that grew by the second and a heat within Sansa that was getting hard to ignore. Her lips were softer than he could ever imagine and sweet was her taste on his tongue. Sansa returned the fervour much to his surprise. It tore him inside to pull away for a gasp of air.

“Sansa… I… I want this. I want you. But… I must ask. Do you want… Me?”

Too breathless from the heat of the moment, Sansa only nodded before Jon’s mouth was on hers again.  _I never knew kissing could be so…_

Jon’s arms gripped her closer and Sansa squirmed under the squeeze of his hands on her waist. His touch was like fire, even with her clothes on. She quivered at the thought of his hands on her bare skin. Jon’s mouth hungrily moved from her lips to her neck, where she whimpered at the nick of his teeth pulling at her skin. He wanted to devour her whole and that thought only made Sansa writhe in pleasure.

“Sansa… Gods forgive me but I must have my way with you… Speak now or I won’t be able to stop if I go on,” Jon growled as he pulled her braids loose and turned her face to him. His eyes were no longer sad but dark and dangerous. Fear wasn’t what came over her as she stared into them, but lust. She had wolf’s blood in her after all.

“Go on…” Sansa let out a breathy whisper. Never had she felt like this before. Was this usual between a man and a woman? To feel lust crazed and desire for a man she barely knew except that he once grew up with her and her siblings? How could something so wrong, feel so right? If this was hell, then they both would burn together.

Jon’s aching need got the better of him as his hands ripped the buttons of her dress, exposing her soft pale skin that very nearly made him faint, weak at the voracity that consumed him. Her soft whimpers drove his hands further down the heavy skirts, shredding them at the seams, and having left only her small clothes barely hanging onto her curves.

“I.. must..have.. you.. now, Sansa,” Jon demanded in between fervent kisses. Sansa gasped as his hands tore away the final thread of clothing left on her and her skin felt nothing but heat oozing out of every pore. Her gasps turned into soft moans as Jon’s fingers explored parts of her no one had ever touched. Not even herself. “Gods, Sansa… You’re perfect.”

Sansa gripped Jon’s arms and held onto for dear life as his fingers deftly parted her folds, now dripping wet with a desire in sync with his.

“Ahh…Jon..”

“Good girl… Hold on to me.”

Sansa’s grip tightened on his arms as the muscles flexed, enabling his fingers slip further inside of her and his other hand firmly kneaded her bottom. Jon’s growl as she sighed against his chest only made her buck her hips and move along to his digits.

“I want to taste you, Sansa,” Jon asked softly as he removed his hands and Sansa sighed at the desertion. She did not know what he meant by that but she was too dazed to question and longed for his touch again.

It took a second before she felt herself being flipped on her stomach, on the bed. Their marriage bed now, soon to be christened with their coupling.  _Lord and Lady of Winterfell.. What would Mother and Father say.._

Sansa gasped and screeched as her buttocks were lifted up and a warm slippery tongue slithered all over her womanly parts. “Ahh..Jon!”

Sansa jumped as Jon’s palm smacked across her bottom. It only made her gush even more. His hands squeezed and groped at her curves while his stubble grazed the insides of her thighs deliciously but it was nothing compared to the nibbling on her flesh, especially on a particular spot where she felt the heat inside of her growing rapidly. Where she felt she would explode within her if he continued. And gods, she wanted him to. Jon’s alternating between the light nibbling and devouring her in mouthfuls drove her to highs she never felt before. The ecstacy was beyond anything she’d ever heard about of bedding. This was almost divine. The heat in her was now getting too much. Jon’s mouth was now sucking on her flesh, thirsty for her taste, scent and everything else Sansa was made of.

“Ahh… Jon! Oh gods!”

“Not now, my Lady.. not until I’ve tasted all of you,” Jon ordered and Sansa felt a slight twinge of frustration as Jon’s mouth left her cunt. Jon raised his palm again and slapped the round fleshy parts and grinned as Sansa squirmed once more. The way her pale skin flushed pink was mesmerising. Jon couldn’t resist feasting on the plump buttocks as he sank his teeth on it, making Sansa yelp. “You are sumptuous, my Lady.. I just can’t help myself..”

“Jon.. please..”

It was no question how Sansa’s soft whimpers had turned him rock hard. He never had anyone beg him like this before and somehow it made his insides burn with lust. Resuming his tongue on her, Jon sucked and chewed on parts of her Sansa never imagined any man would. Her squirms were becoming more frantic the more he licked and suckled on her, on a particular nub of flesh especially. It was lovely seeing beautiful Sansa come undone at his will.

Jon lessened his suckling as Sansa finally screamed his name, buckling and thrashing about under him, quivering involuntarily as her peak washed over her, in powerful waves that rocked the very core of her being.  _What a vision_ , he thought as he watched Sansa heave and gasp, weak from his feeding on her. Jon stood up and stroked his needy flesh that poked out from between his legs. He could watch Sansa naked in the flesh lying before him and be satisfied but  _no, duty beckons_.

“Uhh.. Jon.. please.. gently, please,” Sansa barely opened her eyes and caught sight of Jon’s lust pointed directly at her. It was a fine and meaty one indeed. It cocked up slightly at her pleas and Sansa turned her eyes to Jon, who was wearing a slight lopsided grin.

“I will, my Lady. I promise you won’t feel anything but good. Do you trust me?” Jon crept on the bed and laid beside her. He leaned in for a kiss and Sansa felt another gush from between her legs again. There was something in his touch that her body understood. She was slightly anxious but her need grew stronger the more he touched her.

“I’m not one who knows much more than you do but this is our experience. Our time. It’s ours together,” Jon assured her gently as he moved towards her slowly and hovered above her, peppering her neck and face with kisses. Sansa hissed as his flesh poked and teased her wet entrance.

“Do you trust me, Sansa?”

Jon pushed gently as his tongue invaded her mouth and parted her lips in search for hers. Sansa moaned at the torturous dual pleasure it was bringing. 

“Do you trust me, my Lady?” Jon asked again, this time, prodding further as she felt her insides stretch deliciously and his warm cock bathing in her juices. Sansa shut her eyes and breathed deeply. He was large and thick and Sansa felt some resistance despite the ample fluids her body provided.

“I’ll ask again… Do.. you…trust.. me.. my.. lovely.. wife..”

Sansa’s jaw dropped open and her eyes caught on his as Jon gave one final thrust, his cock now piercing through her folds and past her inner walls. Sansa felt something snap inside of her painlessly that grew into a dull ache. And as soon as it came that ache disappeared and all Sansa felt was wonderful. As he had promised. “Shh.. Move with me.”

Jon’s gentle thrust provided a rhythm she could follow and soon enough, she had him pushing and pulling in and out of her with ease. Again, she felt the heat gripping deep inside her belly as Jon rammed in and out of her warm wet quim. His moans along with hers, the noises they made together was music to her ears. He was her first. The first man that made her a woman. How good it felt. And she hoped that he would be her last.

Sansa’s inner folds had its firm grip on him as he watched his cock thrust in and out of her. He never imagined that bedding a maiden would feel like this. He had few experiences to count on but this was by far the best.  _My wife._

The grip on his cock suddenly tightened and spasmed, contracting on his flesh as he continued the frenzied pace of fucking her deeper and harder as her depths allowed whilst Sansa writhed and trashed about once more, hit by her own wave of pleasure, the result of their bodies becoming one. “Oh gods! Oh Sansa…”

“Jon… Please don’t stop..”

He wouldn’t. He would go on and on if he possessed the willpower and stamina. But her flesh proved too much for his and Jon felt the inside of him bubbling up frantically. Anytime now. 

“Oh gods Sansa… You are so beautiful.. my Sansa.”

He dreamed of having sons once, growing up in Winterfell like he did with the Stark children. There was no guilt attached to it this time. No shame. This time, it would be his and real.

“My wife..” Jon whispered as he gave one final thrust and howled as he emptied himself in Sansa’s virginal womb. He grunted and growled as spurt after spurt coated her insides, slowly coming down gently atop Sansa who was taking deep breaths herself, released from her own climax. Jon closed his eyes and let the rise and fall of Sansa’s breathing lull him back to his senses.

“Jon?”

Jon sighed and turned to Sansa as she called his name. Never thought how sweet his name sounded on her lips, till now. “Yes, Sansa?”

“Promise me something?”

“Anything you ask,” Jon smiled sleepily, the toll of their love making was taking over quickly.

“Promise me that… We’ll do this… again?”

Jon pulled himself up and looked into his new wife’s sparkling blue eyes.  _Gods, you are beautiful._

“All the time, my love.”

A peaceful, lovely resolution for the North, indeed.


End file.
